


it feels different (when you're with me)

by irecupiebas



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Because I Can't Write, M/M, proposal fic but make it bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irecupiebas/pseuds/irecupiebas
Summary: Alex plans a proposal. The plan goes to shit.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	it feels different (when you're with me)

**Author's Note:**

> This was directly inspired by how Barack Obama proposed to Michelle Obama. Yes, it's bad. Yes, the title is from a Niall Horan song. Enjoy :)

The thing about the bar exam is that it’s an annoying but necessary part of officially calling yourself a lawyer. A twelve-hour test that sucks the very joy out of you for the two days it takes and the months it takes to prepare. But Alex has never been one to turn down a challenge and so he sits to take the bar after graduating top of his class at NYU. And because he is the by-product of two genius legal minds, he knows he’s going to pass. So on the evening of July 30th, 2023, instead of going home to his shared brownstone in Brooklyn and worrying about the test, he flies to London to meet up with Henry who has been there for a week already working on foundation related matters with Pez.

Marriage hasn’t been a topic they’ve shied away from, both Henry and Alex being in the positions they are. The same conversations they’ve had loop in his head during the flight. The questions of where would it happen? How would it happen? Would it even be allowed? He shouldn’t be working himself up this much about a trip to see Henry, one like the many he’s taken over the years. But the idea of the blue velvet box he’s going to present to his love this evening is preventing him from sitting still, and if Amy notices, she doesn’t say anything.

When he arrives at Kensington, still the official residence of Henry and Beatrice, he’s greeted by a smug Shaan. In order to make this evening possible, Alex had to ask the assistance of many including him and Beatrice. Getting the size and style of the ring right was a cumulative effort by not only the crew here in London but of the rest of the Super Six and was harder than probably all his years of schooling combined. But if this night goes as he plans for it to, it’ll all be worth it.

-

He’s pushing his sunglasses onto his head standing in a plush hallway when he sees Henry rounding the corner in all his handsome glory. And Alex is as in love now as he was the day he came here covered in English downpour to first profess said love all those years ago. Except now, the low afternoon sun is streaming in through tall windows, hitting Henry just right and his arms are wrapped tightly around those broad shoulders before he even has the time to process it.

Henry’s laughing into his hair and saying “Hi, love,” and Alex is going to melt into the floors of Kensington.

“Well, how was it?” Henry asks, holding him at arm's length.

“Fucking fantastic, aced it,” he replies. And there’s a hint of humour to his reply, but Alex knows he’s probably right.

Henry is beaming back at him and leaning down to pull him into an all-consuming kiss that can only be described as _soft as fuck._

“In that case,” Henry says, pulling back. “This is turning out to be a night of multiple celebrations, because that shelter downtown Pez and I were looking into is officially being acquired by the foundation.”

Alex feels a swell in his heart at the gleaming happiness in Henry’s eyes. Alex is shaking his head in disbelief, this amazing son of a bitch is his. For forever, if he’ll have it.

Henry is linking their arms together and leading them away, “Well come on then, dinner is in the back gardens, just as you requested.”

-

The back gardens have been closed off to the public for the evening and are draped in small twinkling lights. A single table is set up on a small plane of grass surrounded by hedges of colourful flowers.

Even after years of them being together, the novelty of sitting with Henry anywhere, just the two of them, and having a meal hasn’t worn off. The way his hands curl around his cutlery or the way he laughs into his glass. It’s something that a few years ago was unfathomable to the both of them, so he savours _every_ moment.

There’s staff that bring out course after course of their favourite dishes and they talk about the things they’ve missed in their week of being apart. Henry talks animatedly about an upcoming fundraiser while Alex fills him in on updates of their neighbours on their street in New York.

Someone has just cleared the main course when Henry says matter of factly, “Did you know that the updates done to this garden were inspired by the work of Charles Bridgeman who worked for Queen Caroline, the Queen consort of George IV?”

Alex leans back in his chair smirking faintly. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of Henry's random pool of knowledge. “No, I didn’t know that. But does that mean I also get a royal gardener? You know, being your consort.”

Henry answers, “Technically we would have to be married for you to be my consort.” Alex's heart jumps at the mention of marriage. He continues, “and besides, Caroline and George are nothing to aspire to. But she was Princess of Wales for a bit.”

Alex tips his head back and laughs, “Does Philip still call me that?” and because he can’t help himself he adds, “Wonder how I would look in a tiara.”

“Yes, well, Philip doesn’t think before speaking. No one is becoming Princess of Wales.” Henry's smile has suddenly dropped from his face and he’s squinting somewhere off into the hazy night when he answers.

Alex is used to Henry’s little shifts in mood, he understands where his uncertainty stems from and so he replies in an airy nonchalant way, “Well, I always wanted to be a Disney princess, but Princess of Wales is close enough I guess.”

Henry looks back to him, swallows around the knot in his throat and says, “It’s not that simple Alex, I don’t exactly know how we would do _it_.”

The _it,_ Alex understands, means marriage in this context and the uncertainty from earlier in the day comes crashing back. Alex thinks fleetingly, are we seriously doing this now? Are we going to have a conversation about whether they can get married right before Alex is going to fucking propose? But the look on Henry's face says, yes, this conversation is happening and it’s happening now.

“Ok well, we do _want_ to get married. And we’ll figure out the rest when it comes,” is Alex’s answer.

They’ve had the hypothetical marriage debate plenty of times but the bottom line is always that they do want to get married, it was just the logistics that were complicated. Alex knew the dread that Henry held in his heart about his family's response. But he had already talked to Beatrice and gotten the blessing of Catherine, who had vowed to stand with them when it came to facing the Crown. And so he steels himself, internally pulling himself upright. He knows Henry better than anyone. He looks at Henry now, his bottom lip is between his teeth and his brows are knit inwards. Alex can only imagine the spinning narrative of self-doubt and fear in his head right now.

“H,” he says earnestly. “You once told me that you wanted me to help you figure this whole thing out. That you were into making history.” He holds his hand up a little when Henry opens his mouth to cut in. “And I meant it when I said this was it for me, that you were it.”

Henry is looking at him with watery eyes and opening his mouth to respond when Alex notices a waiter approaching with a silver dessert dish. His stomach flips at the thought of what’s under the lid. They weren’t supposed to be having this tense conversation when it happened, but it’s too late to backtrack now.

Henry is saying something that Alex isn’t quite processing when the server slides the tray on to the table, lifts the top, and stalks back into the direction he came from. Henry’s eyes flick down mid-sentence and he stops talking immediately.

In the middle of the silver tray where a slice of cake is supposed to be is a velvet box with the lid off, displaying a shining gold band. Henry looks up at him, shocked. Alex smiles a small smile.

“Honestly, it wasn’t supposed to go like this but when does anything go the way we plan?”

Henry lets out a wet laugh, “Alex, I-.”

But Alex is grabbing the box off the tray and sliding onto one knee beside the table before Henry has the chance to continue. Henry's breath catches in his throat.

“Sweetheart, we could have this conversation all day and get nowhere. But when I picture the future, you’re always there with me and I honestly can’t imagine a world where you’re not. I know it’s not going to be easy but I want to try. I want this for us, more than anything else.”

Henry is honest to god crying now, red in the face with emotion. And Alex isn’t embarrassed to admit his own eyes are wet with tears.

And finally, pulling in a great breath, Alex says, “Henry, would do me the absolute greatest fucking honour of marrying me?”

He looks up at Henry who is laughing into the warm summer night. “You bastard, I was supposed to ask _you_.”

And then his hands are around Alex’s face. Henry is pulling Alex up into a crushing kiss. They’re both crying slightly and laughing into it.

“So, I’m taking this as a yes?”

Henry lets out a little sound, “Yes, yes of _fucking_ course yes.”

Alex laughs and lets out a breath. “Ok good, just making sure.”

With slightly shaky hands, Alex takes the ring out of the box, sliding it onto Henry’s waiting finger. It seems like all those years ago they had taken that first dive and never came up for air. But now, with the ring on Henry's finger, it was like they had finally resurfaced to a world that was brighter and better than they had left it.

Henry is clutching Alex’s hands asking how he even had the time to plan this when they both hear a loud cheer from closer to the house. It’s Beatrice. Standing barefoot, waving a phone at the two.

“Nora and June say congratulations, you two! Oh and me too obviously!”

They hear the overlapping voices of what Alex is assuming both Nora and June screeching over FaceTime. Henry is chuckling softly and hiding his face in Alex’s neck as Alex flips the phone off.

-

Later, they’re lying in bed after having received everyone's congratulations over call and Pez’s in person in the form of _very_ expensive champagne.

Henry has one hand extended towards the ceiling, admiring the gold band. “Thank you Alex, honestly,” he professes.

Alex’s brows furrow. “For proposing?”

“No, I mean yes, but not specifically, just for everything. I didn’t see this life for me, ever. So thank you for giving me so much.”

Alex looks over at the man of his actual dreams, “You deserve it all H, everything and more.”

Henry’s eyebrows do an insane little quirk upwards. “And more huh? And what does that _more_ look like Mr. Fox?”

Alex gasps and elbows him. " _No mames,_ as fucking _if_ I would take your name.”

Henry pulls away laughing. “No? Ok how about Mountchristen-Windsor?” He says it with an exaggerated snobbish accent.

Alex shakes his head, “Absolutely not, I actually fucking hate you.”

Henry pulls him back in, resting his head next to the man he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. He kisses his forehead, “I love you too, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> ¡No mames! = (literally means "don't suck it") but loosely translates to 'no fucking way' or 'what the fuck'


End file.
